These Boots
by TamaraJagellovsk
Summary: Spike has returned from Africa, and he's trying to figure out what to do about that soul of his. Stole the plot - it was too good not to.
after a draft by James Marsters*

beta read by ebineez01

Spike had arrived in town in the middle of the night, and just before sunrise he had found an abandoned house where he could hide. It was nothing like his crypt in Sunnydale, but at least the windows were covered up so the sunlight wouldn't burn him in his sleep. He was exhausted and hungry and he had to admit to himself that he didn't really have a plan. The spark inside him was burning, and it bothered him way more than the stupid chip ever had. He needed to figure out what to do about having his soul back, he knew he had to reinvent himself – again – if he ever wanted to be able to meet Buffy's eyes again, but it was so much harder this time. When he had left William behind in order to become Spike his beloved sire had been there to guide him; this time he was all alone. He turned on the cold floor once more and decided that for now he'd just try and get some sleep.

He left his hideout as soon as the sun had gone down, but there were still way too many people out on the streets for him to do anything. And then he noticed a weird slapping noise. He stopped and it was gone. It took him one more try to find out it was coming from his own boots: the sole of his left boot was coming off. Oh great. Obviously the trip to Africa had been a little hard on his only pair of boots. OK Spike, think. Duct tape would do the trick. You can fix anything with duct tape. So he had to find a club or bar, some place a band would play, and nick a little bit of their tape. Yes, technically that was stealing and stealing was bad. He could try and ask for it...his jaw set at the thought, but hey, he had made a promise, right? No more letting his stupid pride get in the way of doing the right thing! He felt incredibly tired all of a sudden. This was so hard...he was so caught up in his misery that he didn't notice someone approaching him.

"Hey, are you OK?", a female voice asked. He looked up and met warm brown eyes in a sweet, currently worried face framed by short blond hair. He straightened.

"Yeah, sure, I'm fine."

The woman tilted her head a little. Cute. Then her gaze wandered down his body, and he knew she was taking in the dirty jeans and the battered coat, and he wondered if she had noticed his boot was buggered. She bit her lip and her eyes met his again.

"You don't look so hot", she stated, and it made Spike chuckle.

"Careful with the ego there, luv", he grinned - and was pleased to see her blush. Even cuter.

"I meant -"

Spike raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat.

"I should probably go. I'm late anyway."

Oh, right. Now she'd come to the conclusion that he was homeless – which was true, technically – and probably drunk or high. Which had never been less true. His heart sank. He'd enjoyed their little scene. It had almost made him forget his situation. But she was right. He should get out of her hair.

"Late for what?"

Great, Spike. Can you possibly sound more like a stalker? He could see the blinds close. All defensive now, a woman in a dark street steeling herself to deal with unwanted attention. He took a step back.

"I'm sorry."

He turned to leave. Flap. Oh great. The boot. He couldn't even make a dignified exit...he clenched his teeth and kept walking. Step. Flap. Step.

He needed to find something to punch. And that damn tape. He kept walking but froze when he heard a woman's voice cry out behind him:

"No! Get away from -"

A slapping sound. Oh right. Just what he'd been looking for. He rushed back trying to ignore the sodding boot and found the girl pushed against a wall by a man who had her by the throat. Spike landed a blow to the guy's side that pushed the air out of his lungs but also sent the familiar blazing pain through Spike's skull. The man let go of the girl and tried to catch his breath. Spike ignored his headache and shoved him against the wall.

"I believe the lady isn't interested, mate", he growled, just barely refraining from shifting to his fang face. Apparently he was scary enough as it was. As soon as he let go the man took off at top speed. Spike turned to the girl, willing the tension out of his jaw and shoulders.

"Are you OK?"

She nodded, looking a little shaken but also pretty pissed.

"I hate that you can't walk alone at night without some pervert feeling invited."

She let out a breath and pushed her hair back behind her ear.

"I'm Kelly by the way, and thanks a lot."

Spike just smiled at her and nodded.

"What, you don't have a name? Mysterious super hero saves the damsel in distress and disappears?"

Spike's smile got wider.

"No hero. Just a regular bloke. Name's Spike."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. After a beat she went on:

"Uh, you look like you could use a drink. Actually _I_ could use a drink. And I'm on my way to the bar anyway, so..."

"What bar?"

"The one I work at. My shift starts in – oh great, started 7 minutes ago."

"So I should probably walk you there, you know, make sure nothing else gets in your way?"

Kelly smiled at him.

"Sounds like a plan."

~o0o~

Kelly's boss looked up from the glass he was polishing.

"You're late."

"I know, Dan, and I'm sorry. But I might not have made it here at all if it hadn't been for Spike here."

She told Dan what had happened, finishing with: "I figure I owe him a drink."

Dan turned to Spike.

"So, what's your poison?"

Spike wasn't sure if drinking on an empty stomach would do him any good, but he ordered Bourbon anyway. When Dan sat the glass down on the counter Spike leaned a little closer.

"You think you could do me a favor, mate?"

Dan seemed to be a decent guy, so why not?

"Sure, like what?"

A few minutes later Kelly appeared from a room in the back of the bar with a roll of tape.

"It's even black!", she beamed. Nice twinkle in her dark eyes...they fixed Spike's boot as best they could. Spike could tell she was holding back a comment. He finished his drink and stood.

"Thanks for the drink and the tape."

"Thanks for saving me from that jerk."

"Are you gonna be safe later? Walking home I mean?"

"Even I can't have that much bad luck."

He didn't like her walking in the streets alone, but who was he to tell her that. So he just shrugged.

"OK then."

Kelly bit her lip.

"You know, you _could_ come by later..."

There was a new spring in Spike's step when he walked away from the bar. He tried to tell himself it was due to the fact that his damn boot didn't flap any longer, but couldn't really convince himself. Smiling, he walked down the street, remembering the smile Kelly had given him when he'd agreed to come back by the time the bar closed. When he looked up he found his gaze drawn to a dimly lit store window. There in that little shop was the perfect pair of boots! Black leather with steel caps, and they even looked like they would fit. There was no price on them – Spike's heart sank when he realized no matter what the price was he couldn't afford them anyway. He was fully and completely broke. He heaved a sigh, and then he noticed movement inside the shop. An elderly Asian man came to the glass door and looked at him for a long moment, and then he quickly locked the door and turned the sign. 'Sorry, we're closed.' Yeah, sure. Get rid of the homeless guy staring at something in your window he can't afford. Once more Spike realized how hard this new life would be. He couldn't steal, he couldn't make one of his little deals – well technically he could, but he didn't want to – and he certainly couldn't kill. But damn it, no way would he get a job.

He passed the time by getting to know the neighborhood, and then he returned to the bar. Dan and Kelly were just saying their goodbyes when he arrived. She turned to him and looped her arm through his. They didn't talk much as they walked, and as it turned out it wasn't even that far. Way too soon for Spike's liking she stopped in front of what was obviously her place. Looking up at a window on the second floor she said:

"So here we are."

Spike let go of her arm.

"So you should be safe now."

"Yeah. Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

He smiled at her and turned to leave when she put her hand on his arm.

"Hey", she said, and then she moved in to kiss his cheek. So sweet...Spike briefly closed his eyes. She looked at him, and for a moment he thought she might ask him to stay. But the moment passed and she turned to her door. When she had put her key in the lock she turned back to him once more.

"Good night, Spike."

"Night, Kelly."

With a few hours left until sunrise Spike roamed the streets – and though he didn't like it at all he had to admit to himself that he needed to feed. Catching rats...what a pathetic way to survive. He'd always found it disgusting, but what was a fella supposed to do.

Three rats later he was far from being sated, but at least the hunger didn't burn his insides any longer. Without noticing it he had turned back to the street where the Asian guy's shop was. It was all dark now, but the light from the street was enough for him to be able to see the boots. They were practically waiting for him...he could break into the shop. Wouldn't be very hard. While he was staring at the window something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something about this shop...and then it hit him. No way! Back then the shop had been owned by an old woman and her son...he couldn't believe he hadn't remembered it sooner. There was money in that shop. At least he thought it was still there. None of the guys had ever had a chance to get to it, they had all gone to jail for the little number they had pulled...and he had left town as fast as he could and simply forgotten about it! Half a million dollars hidden away underneath the floor boards of this shop. Only a few feet away...and he was starving. All of a sudden breaking into the shop was so much more tempting than when it had only been about the boots. There was the sound of an approaching car behind him so he stopped staring at the shop and started walking. He had to get into that shop. Maybe he could distract the owner and somehow get to the money without causing any harm. It was his anyway. Well, OK, they'd stolen it, but that had been almost a hundred years ago. No one would miss it. Tomorrow. He'd find a way to get to the money tomorrow.

~o0o~

No chance. The guy from last night was nowhere to be seen. Instead a woman, probably his wife, was present, and she took one look at Spike and threw him out. She was tiny, but very determined. Crap. Since he didn't know what else to do Spike made his way to Kelly's place. He debated waiting for her to come out but thought he wold probably draw attention to himself. So he straightened and rang her bell. She hesitated for a moment but then she let him in.

"Second floor", he heard her call out.

By the time he made it to the door of her apartment he wasn't sure what he had been thinking. Not that much obviously...he'd felt lonely, and he liked her. But still. This was pathetic. She was leaning against the door frame with a smile that warmed his unbeating heart. Maybe not such a bad idea after all.

"Hey", she greeted him.

"Hey."

They stood and looked at each other for a moment, and Spike knew what was going on in her mind. She was debating what to do. He knew all he had to do was play his charm, but he refrained. He really liked her. And he wanted to be close to her. But it had to be her decision. When her smile widened he knew she had made her decision. She stepped back and let him in.

"I have no idea who you are", she said.

"Is that a bad thing?"

She looked him straight in the eye for a long moment, and then she closed her eyes and kissed him, soft, gentle, just a brief little taste. He immediately fell for her.

"No", she breathed, and he had to think for a second to remember what question she was referring to.

"Good. So we go with the mysterious guy thing?"

"Yes", she said and leaned in again, and this time he allowed himself to take control.

When they broke the kiss she pulled back a little.

"This is the part where I say that I don't usually do this and you pretend to believe me."

"OK?"

"But I'd rather just ditch that and be honest with you."

He tilted his head a little, waiting for her to go on.

"I like you. For some reason I trust you."

"Might be the super hero number."

She chuckled.

"Probably. Anyway, I do trust you. And I want you."

She looked a little taken aback by her own bravery, but Spike didn't mind at all. He kissed her again, and while his lips were wandering he didn't even notice she'd pulled his shirt up until he felt her slender hand on his bare skin. He let her pull it over his head – and she froze. Eyes fixed on his chest she asked:

"What happened to you?"

"It's barely a scratch." Now. It had looked way worse a few hours ago. "It'll heal." It always did, way too fast, no matter how many times he did it. His vampire metabolism made the cuts heal so quick...the glorious physical pain way too brief to give him more than a moment of relief from the burning inside his chest.

Kelly traced one of the cuts with her fingertips.

"Who did this to you?"

"Someone who doesn't particularly like me. Obviously."

She looked at him, but he shook his head.

"Don't."

"Who are you, Spike?"

"I thought we'd agreed on me remaining mysterious?"

Instead of commenting on that Kelly placed a kiss on the cut, and for a moment the pain stopped. Maybe he could lose himself for a little while. Take a break from trying to find the new Spike and just be. He closed his eyes and gave in.

~o0o~

Spending the night at Kelly's place became a routine very quickly – at least spending a few hours there from when her shift ended to shortly before sunrise. He'd wake up in time and sneak out, and she never commented on it. Until...

"Where do you think you're going?"

Spike froze. Shit. He'd been sure she was asleep. Turning back he whispered:

"Go back to sleep, pet. It's OK. I gotta go."

"You always do this. For once I'd like to wake up in the daylight with you laying beside me."

Urgh. Nasty thought. Not the waking up beside Kelly part. But the daylight thing. He forced a smile.

"Gotta go."

He knew she wouldn't understand. How could she if he didn't explain. But he just couldn't come up with a suitable explanation, and he sure as hell wouldn't tell her the truth.

"Do you even like me?"

That rooted him to the spot. Briefly closing his eyes he turned back and sat down on the bed.

"I do. I might not be the man you think I am, but I care about you. OK? Just – let me go now and I'll be back when I can. OK?"

He searched her face.

"Are we OK?"

She heaved a sigh.

"I've always had a way with the complicated type."

Spike gave her a genuine smile and kissed her forehead.

"You've so come to the right guy."

~o0o~

Spike barely made it back to his hideout in time and immediately curled up in his little corner, cursing himself for having slept all night. Now he'd have to wait for sunset until he could at least try to find something to eat. And he was starving already. A rat every now and then just wasn't enough.

~o0o~

He could smell the blood as soon as he'd turned the corner. The scent hit him like a wave, making him sway for a moment. He was so hungry...he closed his eyes, allowing the scent to lead him to its source. Of course. He'd passed this little shop a few times before, but there had never been a scent that intense. Fresh blood. Somewhere in the back of the butcher shop there was a significant amount of fresh blood, probably pig. Spike's throat went dry. No. No breaking in. Breaking a lock was bad. Maybe – if the door _wasn't_ locked – it wasn't breaking in then, right? But of course the front door _was_ locked. Right. Middle of the night. Dark street. What had he been thinking? He rounded the building and found the back door. The scent was so strong by now that he could almost taste it on the back of his tongue. Of course the back door was locked as well. He rested his forehead against it, so desperate that he had to fight the tears. It would be so easy.

Break the lock, find the blood, drink as much as he could and get out. He'd never be caught. He turned and slid down the door until he was sitting on the ground, his knees up and his face hidden in his hands. What _had_ he been thinking? He was a vampire, for crying out loud. A vampire with a soul, determined not to hurt anybody, broke and homeless and starving to death. His head whipped around as he picked up a sound. Bloody cats. They were almost too silent to detect. Kill the cat or break into a butcher shop? Both felt equally wrong to him. He couldn't help the slightly hysterical chuckle that rose from his chest. He'd brought death and terror over half of Europe in his days, and here he was, worrying about a cat? Said cat seemed to have a death wish, because not only didn't it flee, it came closer and looked at him. Poor thing looks as starved as I feel. And the cat made a decision. Even though it had never met a creature like this one it decided to trust it. Sniffing the tip of Spike's boot the cat looked up at him. Nope. Couldn't kill it. Decision made. The cat shied away but stayed close by when he rose to his feet.

"Don't rat me out little one", Spike whispered over his shoulder before he turned to the door. It wouldn't be too hard to get it open, but it would probably make some noise. Spike listened carefully. No movement inside the building or anywhere around him. He grabbed the door knob and pushed. Boy he wasn't at his best. Finally the the bloody lock gave way, but it was way louder than Spike was comfortable with. He waited for a moment, but there was nothing. He slipped inside the dark shop and almost tripped over the cat who had obviously decided to be his partner in crime. Probably it was just as hungry as him, Spike thought. Spike didn't need to turn on the lights to find the cold storage room and the container. The blood scent was so strong he couldn't think straight, so he shook his head to clear it. Thanks to his vampire senses there was enough light for him to look around. He found an empty can and filled it with the blood. As cold as it was it still tasted delicious. But he didn't have the time to appreciate it. He just had to get as much into him as possible. He wouldn't be doing this again any time soon. Suddenly he froze. There was a sound coming from upstairs. Damn it. The owner probably lived above the shop and had heard the noise. Spike thought about hiding, but the guy would certainly notice the broken lock and get the police. Damn it. He kept as still as possible, waiting. The moment the man appeared at the door of the storage room Spike landed a hard punch, and the man went down. Spike bit back the cry of pain when his chip fired. He took a moment until his vision cleared, but he knew he had to get away as quickly as possible, and he had to keep the blood down. His stomach didn't take too well to a huge amount of ice cold blood after days and weeks of very little at all, but no way would he allow himself to lose his meal. He made for the door when he heard a very small, very sad sound. The cat was sitting at the far wall, looking up at the sausages hanging from the ceiling unable to reach one. Spike smiled at its look of utter despair and the sounds of frustration the little one was making.

"Come on, luv. Can't be that hard, can it?"

He picked the cat up so that it could bite one of the sausages, and the cat tore it right off and jumped from Spike's arm, carrying its catch like a proud hunter. Spike followed it outside, but by the time he made it the cat was out of sight.

~o0o~

Kelly was drawing circles on his shoulder blade. Nice...and then what she had said registered with him and he turned to look at her.

"Wait a minute, did you say tomorrow _afternoon_?"

"Yeah, why?"

Crap. Daylight. Spike shook his head.

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"But you already said yes!"

"I know, but – "

Kelly took a breath.

"Look, this is important to me. I'll be a nervous wreck and I really need you to back me up...please?"

She looked at him the way he usually couldn't resist. Not with any woman looking at him that way. But it was true, he really couldn't. Who scheduled a poetry slam on Sunday afternoon! In daylight! Seriously...shouldn't artists be associated with the night? He noticed she was still waiting for him to change his mind. It wasn't like her to cajole, and it was heart breaking. Maybe he could – no. No way would he show up there all smoking blanket. So he heaved a sigh.

"Really. I can't. Not in the afternoon."

"What, are you allergic to sunlight?"

When he just stared at her for a moment her expression changed.

"Oh my god. That's not really it, is it? That – moonlight disease?"

Spike was confused.

"That – what's the Latin word – when people can't go out in the sunlight?"

It's called vampirism, luv – really, there was a disease? For a moment Spike was tempted to say yes. For a very long moment actually. But then he shook his head. He tried to tell himself that he had just decided against telling another lie, but if he was honest it was about something else. He didn't want Kelly's pity. She already thought he was poor – which was true – and homeless – which was true as well – he didn't want her to think of him as a sick man. He moved in, feeling a little guilty when his strategy seemed to be working. She didn't mention the poetry slam for a while – she wasn't actually talking much at all for a while.

~o0o~

"What's your real name anyway?"

When Spike didn't answer Kelly placed a kiss on his chest.

"What, you want me to guess?"

"You could try. Would probably take you three shots."

"Because I'm that good?"

"Because it's that ordinary."

Kelly looked at him with an expression he couldn't read.

"What?"

"You are anything but ordinary, man with no name."

"I have a name."

"OK, fine, Spike it is."

She lay back and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's William", he said after a while. Why on earth did he tell her that? He could feel her smile against his skin.

"William. So why don't you use that?"

"It feels like – from another life."

"Happier times?"

He huffed a bitter laugh.

"No."

She propped herself up on her elbow, frowning at him.

"You live on the streets and you're practically starving, and yet you're saying that other life was _worse_?"

Great. Pity. That's where honesty lead.

~o0o~

It was the middle of the night and Spike was leaning against a wall in an alley way, trying to get himself under control. Well that had been an epic fail. That demon sure had looked doable – _before_ it pumped itself up to four times its size. He should have known. He should have known better than to approach a being that would sprout wings when getting angry...he shook his head and pushed off the wall. He needed to get off the streets. He turned – and froze. Oh please no.

"Uh, what are you doing here, pet?"

Kelly looked at his face wide eyed and obviously unable to move.

"What are you?", she whispered, staring at him. The fact that all the blood had left her face made him morph back at once. Damn it. He consciously relaxed his shoulders and took a very small step towards her.

"Look, luv, I was meaning to tell you -"

She stumbled back.

"Don't. Please, don't - "

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just had business with that – uhm, guy."

"What _are_ you?", she asked again. "No, wait, I don't think I even want to know. Oh God, to think I let you -"

She looked like she might be sick any moment and Spike just _knew_ what was coming next. Memorized _that_ tune...a dead thing...not a man...not human. She didn't even have to say it. She just turned and walked away. And she didn't have to tell him to stay away from her either. He got the message loud and clear. He watched her turn the next corner and realized he was alone once more. Completely and utterly alone. How could that still hurt.

~o0o~

He was walking back to the abandoned house when he came by the Asian couple's shop once more. Like the first time, it was the man working inside, cleaning and preparing to close up. Damn it, he needed that money...Screw it. I'm just gonna tell him now. Maybe he'll at least give me a reward. He opened the door and entered, and he could sense the man tense up. Before Spike could say anything the wife turned up.

"You! I told you before I don't want you in my shop!"

Her husband turned to her and quietly spoke to her in Mandarin. Spike took a step closer.

"Listen, I just wanted to tell you something."

They both looked at him, and he could tell that they were suspicious. So he told them about the money, and the woman's gaze was immediately drawn to the floor behind the counter. She walked around the counter, her eyes fixed on the floor board. When Spike cleared his throat she looked at him as if she'd already forgotten about him.

"Oh, yes, right. Thank you."

Then she called for her husband and squatted down. Spike clenched his teeth. Great. He was obviously dismissed. Honesty was so overrated...he shook his head and left. Maybe he should skip town again. There was nothing here for him. He took his time on his way 'home', lost in thought, and suddenly he heard footsteps behind him, running. He turned to find the Chinese shop owner trying to catch up with him, that perfect pair of boots in hand. When he reached Spike he held them out to him.

"I saw you looking at them, and I think you should have them. Good luck, son."

Spike stood with the boots in his hands, looking at the corner where the man had disappeared, and a smile was slowly spreading across his face. Maybe honesty wasn't that bad after all.

~o0o~

 ***A/N: There's a graphic novel called "Spike: Into The Light" written by James Marsters in which he used this plot. I swear I** **refrained from reading it until my version was finished,** **basing my story on what James shared at one of his panels.**


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